


Spilled Milk

by hisboywriter



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 23:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisboywriter/pseuds/hisboywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Billy’s magic backfires, it’s Tommy of all people he seeks refuge with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilled Milk

 

 

**Spilled Milk: Take One**

 

**-X-**

 

Tommy had no expectations of the universe.

 

Rightfully so, given the lessons he had learned at too young an age. Before Tommy had heard the word ‘delinquent’ for the first time (and the plethora of labels that soon followed it), he already knew the penalty for being stupid enough to wander around in this universe without defenses. Felt the blow of both verbal and nonverbal assaults, all because he had been naïve enough at one point to think better of people.

 

Some childhoods couldn’t be left behind fast enough.

 

Not that he humored that theory anymore. That was something long forgotten as a scribble on some psychiatrist’s notes, just another statistic in the pile. For all the world knew, Tommy Shepherd had been spit into existence with a snide smile and proclivity for mayhem. No high hopes, no lollygagging in fantasies of what could be, and more importantly, no disappointment to trail on the heels of such things.

 

Still, expectations or not, it didn’t make it alright for Billy to be over a _half hour_ late. Were it not for Kate, Tommy would have bolted across town to haul his twin’s ass out if necessary since Teddy was at practice and thus unable to fulfill that role. Plus, were the two lovebirds not tiptoeing on eggshells the last few weeks, Tommy would have been more than happy to neglect Billy from their plans.

 

Tommy muttered a curse and strangled those thoughts before they got away from him.

 

As he felt the cool bite of a key’s teeth he couldn’t help wonder (again) if the Kaplans’ kindness bordered on stupidity. After all it was Mr. and Mrs. Kaplan who insisted Tommy keep a spare key if ‘anything should happen’. Tommy still felt like there was a riddle in that expression he didn’t get.

 

They were decent enough people, too decent probably. Loitering around their sympathy or concerns had promised to uproot whatever foundation Tommy insisted he did not have. Just once he had caught himself almost mulling over a college degree of all things at Mrs. Kaplan’s behest. Tommy had blinked out of his near-stupor and stuffed a backpack with the scraps of his life that same night.

 

At least the key had its perks on someone who lacked the patience to knock and wait; Tommy unlocked the door and strode through the home he never considered his own with a teasing admonishment on the tip of his tongue. He knew only Billy would be home, and it made the thought of chewing the mage out for his tardiness that much sweeter.

 

“Hey,” he greeted loudly, shutting the door behind him. As an afterthought, he locked it. “Witch,” he called louder, “you realize that the rest of us have been waiting for your ass over half an hour?”

 

He might have not lived there, but Tommy marched through like he owned the place, targeting Billy’s room when a muffled sound exuded from it.

 

The air hung in tatters. Something had disrupted its peace and as it regrouped, Tommy thought he felt a singe of static clinging to Billy’s door.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re wallowing again,” he said, disregarding the chill that scratched up his spine or the way his chest felt a size too small. Now wasn’t the time to let memories get the better of him, as they had an affinity for doing lately.

 

“Don’t come in!”

 

Tommy paused. A small, elevated voice that did not belong to the youngest Kaplan member. An ever-working mind like Tommy’s would know: he remembered the most miniscule details about someone, involuntarily for the most part. What then? A trick? Trap?

 

Tommy willed his muscles to relax, mind on high alert as he clamped his hand on the doorknob. His penchant for barging through closed doors served him well now as he made to reveal the intruder of the tiny voice, his gaze fierce and body inching to launch at a villain.

 

“You picked the wrong place to-“

 

Tommy stared.

 

Brain activity: _processing_ ….

 

Diminutive body, dark hair, large eyes, a ferocity in them that confirmed what Tommy’s mind inevitably came to the conclusion of in less than five seconds.

 

“Billy?” he blurted out. There was no time to be disgusted at how flabbergasted he sounded.

 

It was. Had to be. All data pointed toward it despite the initial shock, which had an impeccable way of bleaching out everything prior to seeing what was _definitely_ a child smack in the middle of Billy’s room, a child trapped in a shirt too big for him and his expression agape with his own shock.

 

Tommy had the leverage of recovering quicker, and there was nothing to do but let the cracked sound of his laughter, pinched with hysteria, escape him.

 

It seemed just the thing to rattle the brat out of his daze because little hands balled into fists and his face went red.

 

“I’m going to break your legs, Tommy!” The tiny voice couldn’t hold a flame to the humiliation and rage juggling on that face. Of all things, Tommy’s invasion of his privacy was on the underbelly of…whatever the hell had happened to have a mini-Billy fuming at him.

 

“Holy shit, it is you.” Tommy crept closer, wishing he had a stick to prod the pint-sized Billy. There was really only one question at the forefront of his mind. “What the hell did you _do_?”

 

For a moment, Billy’s eyes bounced around as if he could find the answers somewhere in the four walls of his room. It was his own stubbornness that forced his gaze back on Tommy, acting like it wasn’t a pain to crane his neck up.

 

“Nothing!” He glanced down at his small palms for a moment. “I mean…well, I…”

 

“Oh,” he laughed, still in the shallow waters of hysteria, “and you guys say I’m the trouble-maker.”

 

“Shut up!”

 

“What are you getting your big boy panties in a twist for?” Tommy said, riding out the delight he earned from Billy’s glare. He was as intimidating as that Pilsbury Doughboy. “Can’t you just,” he gestured with his hand, “you know, ‘magic’ yourself back?”

 

Billy’s eyes lowered.

 

“Well, shit,” Tommy whistled, scratching his brow. “How can you not reverse…I mean, what did you do?”

 

There was some relief when Billy scowled. Petulance was better than that flicker of something more dismal that Tommy (unfortunately) could not miss with his keen eyes.

 

“You think I can just ‘poof’ anything into reality,” Billy huffed, finding some vigor to wiggle more properly in his too-big shirt.

 

“Enlighten me,” Tommy said, half-curious. The whole magic and reality-altering stuff never rubbed him the right way, and he doubted learning about it now would assuage that unease.

 

Then again, he was tilting his neck down at a miniature-sized Billy.

 

Billy grumbled something to himself before sighing. “Teddy thinks it’s related to—” his already large eyes bulged even wider, “Teddy!”

 

“What about him?”

 

Tommy almost flinched when Billy catapulted into motion, dashing to a desk where he scrambled to locate his watch. Something about seeing his now mini-twin in motion confirmed this was no mere illusion. Tommy suddenly felt like he was sharing an exhibit with a monkey.

 

Billy exclaimed and whirled on him. “Teddy’ll be home soon! And that’s if practice doesn’t get out early.”

 

“I thought he was going to meet us—“

 

“He comes home to change first. He doesn’t like getting ready at the showers there if he can help it,” Billy said in a rush, over-active now. Not one part of him seemed capable of staying still, like all his concerns were ripping him in every direction at once.

 

Tommy bristled. “Alright, alright, calm down, will you? You’re freaking me out.”

 

“Tommy, _look at me_! Don’t tell me what—”

 

“You’re more worried about Teddy seeing you like this than me?” It was a sad day when Tommy served as the voice of reason. Luckily the severity of the situation kept his mind from treading into that territory. For now.

 

Billy’s face cramped up and he looked ready to unleash a slap attack on Tommy’s face or, rather, his knees since that’s all he could reach. Whatever outburst Tommy had expected, it dwindled to a grunt and, once again, Billy’s eyes went to the carpet.

 

“We’ve…been…dealing with stuff. Not that it’s your business.”

 

He didn’t have to say more. Tommy deduced enough on his own by the body language and the memories he couldn’t burn to ashes, the ones of Billy limp against the cold window pane, ones of Teddy looking victim to a depression that was not his own to carry. Of course it wasn’t his business, and yet all the data was trying to shove it in his face that yes, it was.

 

Tommy inhaled sharply and shut his eyes. No expectations. No melodrama. No overthinking. Just do. Take action.

 

Right.

 

First things first.

 

“You are going to owe me big. Remember that,” he said, dashing out and returning before Billy could make sense of the words. “Here.”

 

He chucked the pile of clothing at Billy, who nearly toppled over with them.

 

“These are Issac’s,” Billy said, holding out a shirt, “from a few years ago. How’d you know where they were they were stored?”

 

“I see you take me for the twin brother with all looks and no brain.”

 

Billy’s little mouth twitched, but whether it was out of hearing a semi-admission of their bond or from the gesture, Tommy didn’t give a lick about. He busied himself gathering more clothes and other items, like Billy’s phone, to shove in a bag while he changed.

 

“Where are we going?” Billy asked as he eyed the bag with suspicion. At least he wore fitting clothing now, but that was a modicum of triumph.

 

“Away before the big guy shows up,” Tommy said, then held out a hand as if to remind Billy of his status, “only because I’m sure as hell going to be blamed for this somehow.”

 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

 

“Jesus, you’re stupider in this form,” Tommy said, ignoring the protest by raising his own voice. “I have a place now, remember?”

 

At that, Billy shut his mouth. He toyed with the hem of Isaac’s shirt, and for a moment Tommy could believe he was just a lost kid and not a potent magic-wielder.

 

“You’re helping me?” Billy asked.

 

Tommy’s hand froze in mid-zip, the atmosphere stultified by Billy’s words alone. The eeriness passed. Tommy yanked the backpack closed and turned around.

 

“I wouldn’t categorize myself with that word anytime soon.” He tossed the bag at Billy’s feet. “But fine. You seem confident enough to get yourself out of this mess. After all, what do I know about magic?”

 

He made a show of shrugging, turning his back to leave.

 

“Wait!”

 

A glance over his shoulder revealed a stunned Billy, like the witch hadn’t expected himself to blurt that out. After gathering his wits again, Billy went on. “Okay…yeah, I can clear my head if I don’t have to worry about someone showing up.”

 

Tommy narrowed an eye at him.

 

“Someone _else_ showing up…I’ll be fine and back to normal in a few hours.” It was said for his own benefit from what Tommy wagered.

 

“Fine,” Tommy agreed, hauling the bag up onto his shoulder. “It’ll give me time to come up with how you’ll owe me for such graciousness on my part.” He found his grin and ruffled Billy’s hair, yanking his hand away before the mage could think to bite his fingers off.

 

“Don’t touch me!”

 

“Oh,” Tommy sighed, sauntering out. “I’m thoroughly going to enjoy this while I can.”

 

“You better not.”

 

“Well, I suppose I could moderately enjoy it then, you know, by sharing it with Kate…”

 

“You can’t tell anyone,” Billy hissed as though it were a secret the walls might reveal. His hurried footsteps were a pleasant reminder of how much shorter his legs had gotten.

 

Tommy merely smiled in response, holding the door open for Billy to stick his head out before deeming it safe to venture out. They shared a brief glance as Tommy locked the door, a palpable tension swelling around them now that they exposed themselves to the world. All the humor was sucked dry once they maneuvered their way out into the city.

 

Despite Tommy’s show of storming out of the Kaplan home, his quarters weren’t that far off. He made a point to ignore anything Billy might say on that when they finally arrived. For now, he had an eyeful of a restless toddler at his knee, curious eyes trying to get a glance at everyone and failing miserably.

 

“Relax,” Tommy said to him, “I don’t see anyone.”

 

“I thought I hated being smaller for my size as a pre-teen. This is worst,” Billy said, his voice an undercurrent beneath the susurrus and buzz of city life.

 

After a while of losing feel or sight of Billy, Tommy finally snatched a thin wrist and yanked its owner through the crowds.

 

“Oh, get over it,” Tommy said at Billy’s sputtering. “Last thing I need is for some pedo to snatch you.”

 

That shut Billy up. Tommy smirked. It was a matter of time before truth got a handful of Billy’s consciousness, and that couldn’t bode well for either of them. Billy’s earlier paroxysm of anger had been a weak imitation of what had to be coming, whether it be unrefined rage, misery, or a sickly cocktail of every bad emotion. Or worse, apathy.

 

The hustle and bustle, and the goal of getting to Tommy’s place buffered whatever omen chased after them. Tommy at least had the proficiency to distance himself from his own wariness and the tumbling thought of ‘holy crap, this is really happening’.

 

There was also the delicate matter of talking his way out of Kate’s curiosity.

 

“What are you doing?” Billy asked when Tommy freed his phone.

 

Tommy ignored him and typed away. He knew it was a cheap route to take, but engaging in verbal exchanges with Kate would not guarantee victory. He had to settle for a text and silence his phone to evade the weight of her response. They could deal with that later. Tommy had to ride the hope that Kate understood to cotton any concerns Teddy would surely have when neither twin showed up.

 

They paused at a crosswalk, Billy’s glower as tangible as a frost. Tommy stuffed his phone back away and peered at him.

 

“Yeah, she’ll annoyed,” Tommy answered the unasked question. “Unless you plan to explain it to her why the hell we’re doing what it is we’re doing now.” Whatever that was.

 

They didn’t mention Teddy, or anything else for that matter as they hurried as much as Billy’s legs could sustain his form. Tommy didn’t know if the silence was a good or bad kind, nor did he make a point to consider it. Instead he occupied his mind with absorbing details until they reached a building hunkered in between two skyscrapers.

 

It was a building in the diluted sense of the word. Unlike the edifice Billy grew up in, this one hunched to one side, its ribs propped up by one a neighboring skyscraper. It wilted possibly from old age if the patchy exterior said anything about it, or had gotten the bad end of a villain’s wrath and had yet to recover.

 

“You live here?” Billy asked, then grunted as he was tugged inside its crooked maw and up a handful of stairs.

 

“Elevator’s out,” Tommy said as explanation.

 

At the fourth floor and a few strides down a hall, Tommy bullied the door open to his apartment. The building was a husk of what might become of Billy’s after years of neglect, and the same could be said for half of the tenants and their perfidy.

 

Then again, Tommy had had worse, and it could always get worse. It wasn’t home, but did the job. Tommy lost all notions of what home meant and could have just as easily felt as detached to a penthouse as he did. All he knew was this was his place, a shamble of a sanctuary that served the purpose all the same.

 

He dumped the bag and moved to the kitchen, which was always his first pit stop. The constricted walls made it easy to keep Billy in his sights. The mage seemed to have forgotten his fatigue in the wake of seeing Tommy’s place for the first time.

 

“It’s nicer inside,” Billy said. “You have a loveseat. That’s…something.”

 

“Got it for free too.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Tommy didn’t like the implications in that single syllable. He shook off whatever judgments Billy was signing off on in his head the longer he studied the cramped space.

 

“You work?”

 

“How else do people pay for a roof over their heads?” Tommy planted a cup of water in Billy’s hands before settling on the coffee table across his twin. At the face made at the drink, he added, “I use a filter. You won’t die of mercury poisoning.”

 

Billy flushed, then took a sip.

 

Tommy downed his own glass. Billy was still there when he finished, not an inch bigger, but looking as if he weighed thrice his weight.

 

Well…

 

Now what?

 

“I hadn’t used my powers in so long,” Billy said suddenly. He was staring at his glass, his grip on it relentless for such small palms.

 

“A few months.” Tommy knew the exact number of days. He kept it to himself, but suspected Teddy knew too.

 

“It’s part of me,” Billy went on as if Tommy hadn’t spoken, “but it’s like a skill that I can’t just get back to using. It feels like I hadn’t walked in a while, and then tried to go for a run after all that time.”

 

Tommy took a fake sip of his glass, if only to keep himself from pointing out Billy had hardly done any walking either.

 

A small huff left the mage, and Tommy realized it had tried to be a chuckle. Mirthless, at that.

 

“Guess it was ambitious,” Billy mumbled, “trying to change my clothing while it was on me.”

 

“Your clothing?”

 

“I thought to try something moderate, on something tangible. It’s easier working with something that already exists and all that. Just in case, anyway.” Billy exhaled and sagged back. “I should have tried it with the clothes on the bed. I don’t know. Maybe I was distracted thinking of how the shirt moved when I breathed, and…”

 

He cut off as suddenly as he had started digging through explanations. Tommy leaned closer, jabbing a finger in his direction.

 

“And what?”

 

Clarity sharpened Billy’s eyes as much as it hardened them. His mouth made a stiff line and he straightened in his spot.

 

“Nothing,” he said, and Tommy didn’t buy it for a second. “I’m sure I can change back. I’ll need some space and,” again, he skipped over more words. “Space, and some quiet,” he resigned to saying.

 

Tommy felt his jaw getting a tick. He willed his muscles to ease up before getting up to put his glass aside. Space and quiet. If that’s all Billy truly needed, and his gut twisted in all sorts of denying knots to refute that, then he could supply that much. Anything to get Billy back to normal so he could properly tease and make jibes about the situation, maybe even get Billy’s face to crack a smile.

 

“Fine,” he said. “Do what you gotta do, though I don’t see how you’re going to change your entire body when you screwed up something as simple as clothing.”

 

“I can do it just fine. It was my fault for not focusing on the words. That’s all it—“

 

“Right. Space and quiet,” Tommy repeated, waving his twin off. Already it seemed like ages ago he had the inkling to laugh at the sight of Billy. Now, as the mage sat there with a look in his eye that brought back the chill on Tommy’s back, he wanted to be rid of the sight.

 

Before he could get any more insight as to where his person should be during this inevitable fiasco, a melody chimed through the thick air between them. The tune, melodic and sappy if Tommy knew anything about music, drained the pale color dabbing Billy’s cheeks. He knew the tune and whose name it linked to.

 

Tommy knew, too, a heartbeat later.

 

“Teddy.”

 

In retrospect, maybe Tommy should have had some expectations after all.

 

**-X-**


End file.
